After the Fall
by Diva Stardust
Summary: Spike trains Dawn in the cemetery and finds his feelings for her starting to change. Post-“Lies My Parents Told Me”.
1. I Walk the Line

Title: I Walk the Line  
  
Series: First in the "After the Fall" series.  
  
Author: Diva Stardust  
  
Pairing: Dawn/Spike  
  
Rating: R  
  
Summary: Spike trains Dawn in the cemetery and finds his feelings for her starting to change. Post-"Lies My Parents Told Me".  
  
Distribution: Just ask first if you want to archive this somewhere, please. I will most likely say yes!  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Marti Noxon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, FOX, etc. I'm not making any money off this.  
  
Acknowledgements: Thanks to Spikeyvamp for the beta!  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
The cemetery was theirs for the night. Buffy had taken the potentials to a different graveyard that evening and Dawn was his.  
  
"You know I really like training with you better than Buffy. So far you haven't done any who's got the power stuff," Dawn said while flipping a stake back and forth between her hands.  
  
"What's that?" asked Spike, an eyebrow cocked in confusion.  
  
"Oh, whenever Buffy would take me out patrolling she'd always go on and on with her speeches. You know the ones she does at the house? Well, imagine those only way smaller but still just as boring."  
  
A small laugh left his mouth. "My condolences, Bit."  
  
He watched her as she scanned the cemetery looking for anything suspicious. Now that he was trigger free Buffy had wanted him to train Dawn but he'd been hesitant at first. Seemed like something she should be doing, not him, but Buffy wanted her to be able to get the kind of one on one training that she couldn't give her anymore with the mess of potentials they had at the house. Spike hadn't bothered learning most of their names. Either more died each day or more arrived each day. Buffy had made it clear they were strictly her concern. He didn't like how she was trying to take on everything alone but she'd also made it clear that Dawn was who she wanted him to look out for now. When she told him that, it changed how he felt about training her. His promise from two years ago still meant everything to him. 'Til the end of the world.  
  
She sat on the edge of a tombstone when she was certain there were no vamps around and stopped flipping her stake back and forth. Looked serious. "Why does Buffy want you to do this again? I know I put up a major fuss with her for a long time about wanting to go patrolling with her but now ... I'm research girl, Spike! I found my niche. I don't pine for being one of those girls anymore."  
  
He sat down beside her. "Know that, Bit. 'S not like she wants you to go out patrolling alone. She just wants you to be able to handle yourself."  
  
She nodded. "Okay, I get that. But I can totally handle myself."  
  
He gave her a doubtful look and she sighed. "Okay, so I'm not quite there yet but I'm getting better, aren't I?"  
  
"Every night you're getting better. Got good reflexes, you do."  
  
He could tell she was trying to hide her happiness at his praise and smiled to himself. The first time he had taken her out here she had still hated him. Barely talked to him until he forced her to open up to him. Wanted her to put all her pain on him but she had only beaten small fists against his chest that felt as soft as cotton as she cried. It had started to rain and that's when she'd collapsed in his arms, her hair sticking to his shirt like glue. Their friendship was back where it used to be now, stronger even, but he was still worried about anything ruining it. He knew they were on shaky ground. Just the tiniest thing could throw everything off balance.  
  
Spike remembered her earlier words. "Research girl. You planning on taking over Red's position? Want me to take care of her for you?" he teased.  
  
"Hey, there can be two researchers, can't there? And I mean ... look at Willow now! She's gotten less scared about doing her magic AND she hasn't tried to kill me in like, a really long time. So there's less chance of her going all evil and veiny, right? She can handle the magic and I can handle the book stuff." Her eyes got a distant and thoughtful look to them. "There's this book I want to read when I get home ..."  
  
"You mean you haven't studied *all* the ancient languages yet? I'm shocked!"  
  
She laughed. "Everyone keeps teasing me about that! I don't care though; it's really fascinating stuff and comes in handy. I like being useful to the group."  
  
"Yeah, I hear that, Bit." Spike was glad he had found his purpose again. Training Dawn was his job now. He had a reason for getting to live in their basement and drinking the blood that she would bring him after their training sessions. Was a hell of a lot more fun than being tortured by the First too.  
  
He wasn't sure how much praise he should give her. Didn't want it to go to her head but he couldn't help himself. "I'm proud of you, Dawn. I've seen the way you devour those books Will gives you. You're a quick study the way you pick up everything so fast."  
  
She looked down at the stake in her hands. "Thanks. She's been really good to me with all the stuff she's let me borrow. I think she's just excited about someone else being able to understand all the stuff she talks about all the time," she laughed.  
  
"With your brains you should be able to go to one of the best universities in a few years."  
  
"I wish! Could be kind of hard if I don't get a scholarship what with all our money going to repair the house after a bunch of eyeless freaks destroyed it and to a bunch of girls who don't even want to be here. They sure don't mind eating all my favorite cereal in the morning, though, do they?" she grumbled.  
  
She paused and looked at him with a question lurking beneath her eyes. "Where did you go to school?"  
  
Spike was taken aback by the question. No one ever bothered to remember that he had been human once, let alone could've actually been intelligent enough to have gone to a university. He was pretty certain most of that lot didn't bother to imagine he existed before he came to Sunnydale. But Dawn had always thought different he remembered. Always wanted to know more about him.  
  
He told her about Cambridge and listened to the excited noises she made while she jumped off the tombstone and started walking animatedly in front of him. He laughed and took that to mean she'd been thinking about going there someday. As he watched her a thought crossed his mind. He would've loved spending time with Dawn when he was human. They were a lot alike. She wasn't meek like he'd been. She had a lot more guts, courage, and fire in her than he'd ever hoped of having back then but she went through books at the same speed he used to. Had that same love for learning. For wanting to know everything that was out there.  
  
When he started picturing what Dawn would look like back then, in the dresses he was used to seeing women in, he stood up abruptly. Enough of this. Time to get down to business.  
  
"Right, well, this jaunt down memory lane's been nice and all but what say you and me start what we came here for, alright?"  
  
She looked disappointed but tried to hide it. Got into her fighting stance and held her stake tighter. "Sure. How should we start tonight?"  
  
"Come at me," he growled.  
  
She hesitated for a moment but then ran to him. But she was distracted and still thinking about the stories he'd told her. His fangs were inches away from her neck in a matter of seconds.  
  
"You're dead, Dawn. Pay attention. You're distracted right now. Focus."  
  
She took a breath and he let her go. "Start walking over there, pet. I'll attack when you least expect it. Remember; be on your guard at all times."  
  
He watched as she walked away from him and tried to get into predator mode. It wasn't a very difficult thing to do. He went in the opposite direction she was going in. Wanted to come at her from the front. See how well she'd handle walking right into a trap.  
  
She didn't jump or flinch when they finally met up. He was glad of that but she still didn't have the strength she needed even though the agility was there. After a quick tussle where he at least wasn't able to knock the stake out of her hands, he had her pinned to the ground.  
  
Her efforts to knock him off her were useless and he could see her beginning to give up. "Don't give up, girl! This is your bloody life on the line!"  
  
Looking down at her a flood of memories came back to him. Killing girls Dawn's age exactly like this. Keeping the bloodlust under control was still so hard for him. Probably always would be. There were so many times during the day that he felt like choking the life out of one of the potentials for something annoying they would do or say. He never wanted to think about Dawn like that, though, and loosened his grip on her. She kicked him off her and even though it didn't have the kind of power that would usually get him off a victim he landed on the ground anyways.  
  
She straddled him and poised the stake over his heart. "How's that?"  
  
His mind was racing. Suddenly realized it wasn't right for them to be in this position, not at all. Never mind the bloody training; she was right on top of him. Could hear how hard she was breathing and how fast her heart was beating from all the adrenaline and he needed to get her off him right the hell now.  
  
"Good. Good work. You can get off me now."  
  
She stood up and wiped the dirt off her pants. He did the same and tried not to look at her. "Right, well I think that was enough for tonight."  
  
She looked confused. "Really? We usually train for longer than this."  
  
"Yeah, know we do, but best to leave on a high note. That way you'll have more confidence tomorrow night."  
  
Dawn seemed satisfied by that excuse. "Okay."  
  
As they made their way through the row of graves Spike was distracted. He never saw, let alone sensed, the vampire that came out of nowhere and as quick as a bolt of lightning had Dawn by the throat.  
  
The stake was knocked out of her hand and Spike could see the panic all over her face. Everything he had tried to teach her was being forgotten in just a handful of seconds.  
  
The vampire brought his fangs down to her neck and Dawn screamed when he bit her.  
  
"Don't you fucking touch her," he growled. Suddenly there was only dust as Spike's hands were on him instantly, pulling him off her and snapping his neck.  
  
The scared look was still on her face as she brought her hand to her neck. "Spike, I'm bleeding," she said quietly.  
  
Everything came full circle.  
  
Dawn standing on the tower. That desperate look in her eyes because she knows she's going to lose him. That she's going to get cut, going to bleed everywhere. And it's because of him. All his fault.  
  
"Not going to let you bleed, Sweet Bit."  
  
His mouth was on the wound before she could say anything in return. Licking it gently while also applying pressure with his lips to stop the blood from flowing. Needed to make it stop. The taste of her was making him dizzy. She tasted like something powerful, ancient, magic older than time. But also sweet and girlish as well. It was a heady mixture.  
  
He remembered being at the hospital with her after the fall. Not even being concerned about his own injuries, thinking only of her. Those slices that bastard had made to her sides trying to open her up for that fucking ritual. He'd called her his brave girl and watched while the doctors bandaged her up, eventually forcing them to let him do it because he knew they weren't doing a good enough job. He knew she still had the scars too. She used to tell him how ashamed of them she was, how she was never going to be able to wear a bikini when all the other girls her age would.  
  
His arms held her against him, fierce and protective while his mouth continued on. He'd never felt so possessive before. Wanted to fall to his knees and kiss those scars that brought her so much pain. Make everything better for her. Let his kisses beg for her forgiveness.  
  
Spike stopped suddenly when he heard a very tiny noise slip out of Dawn's mouth. A moan.  
  
There was a line that he was dangerously close to crossing right now.  
  
He knew he couldn't let that happen. He looked at the wound again. "The bleeding's stopped. Best get you home and bandaged up."  
  
"Thanks," she said.  
  
As they walked back home he shoved his hands into his coat pockets so she wouldn't be able to see them shaking. 


	2. Fade to Grey

Title: Fade to Grey  
  
Series: Second in the "After the Fall" series.  
  
Author: Diva Stardust  
  
Pairing: Dawn/Spike  
  
Rating: R  
  
Summary: Spike and Dawn's relationship begins to become murky and unclear.  
  
Distribution: Just ask first if you want to archive this somewhere, please. I will most likely say yes!  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Marti Noxon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, FOX, etc. I'm not making any money off this!  
  
Acknowledgements: Thanks to Spikeyvamp for the beta!  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Everything had turned grey.  
  
Nothing felt the same anymore. Everything was murky and unspoken. Spike still danced around the line, knowing he couldn't step over it. Hating himself for wanting to in the first place. Dawn still acted the same around him. Most of the time. Sometimes he thought he caught her looking at him differently out of the corner of his eye but it was gone too quickly to be sure. They touched more too. Hugs, an occasional arm slung across a shoulder, a brief hand squeeze, his hand on her shoulder when she studied. The comforts of friendship.  
  
Spike had tried to bury his feelings so deep that they had turned grey as well. Didn't want to think about them. No point in thinking about something that could never happen.  
  
A year had gone by since that night in the cemetery but he could still taste her on him.  
  
"Did you have another one of your nightmares, Sweet Bit?"  
  
It was the middle of the night and he'd woken up to the sight of Dawn standing at the foot of his bed. Looking shaken up but slightly relieved as well.  
  
"I dreamed about it again," she quietly said.  
  
She'd first told him about the nightmares almost a year ago. She'd had them ever since the tower but had never told anyone. They didn't come often, only once every few months but they were enough to shake her up for days afterwards. Now she only told him about them. He had wanted her to tell Buffy as well but she'd refused and had gotten such a look of panic on her face that Spike had never mentioned it again.  
  
"What happened this time?" he asked gently.  
  
The nightmares were always related to the tower somehow. Sometimes Doc just kept cutting her and never stopped. The blade piercing her skin over and over again. He remembered the night he found out why she didn't want to tell Buffy. Sometimes she dreamed Buffy pushed her off the tower while laughing.  
  
"You fell," she stated blankly.  
  
He used to have dreams like that too. About falling. Falling and failing. They were the same thing.  
  
Spike waited patiently for her to go on. Sometimes it would take a while for her to get it all out.  
  
"But you didn't come back. You were gone, dead."  
  
He couldn't remember her ever dreaming about that before. About him.  
  
"I had to come downstairs and make sure you were still here." She started to look ashamed like it had been foolish for her to think he would've been gone.  
  
"Nothing to fret about, Dawn. I'm here"  
  
But she just stood in silence and looked at him. At his bed. Once they had defeated the First last year they'd wanted him to keep living there. All of them actually. Buffy, Dawn, and Willow. It made for a strange household. Most of the potentials had been sent back to their homes after the battle but some of the more eager ones had stayed behind, wanting to help fight everyday ordinary evil in Sunnydale. Oftentimes there were still teenage girls sprawled out at night in their living room.  
  
Dawn had helped him turn the basement into looking somewhat like his old crypt. It looked much more posh than it had a year ago. A large bed replaced the cot and there were several chairs spread across the room. She had tested each one herself before buying them. Making sure they were comfy enough even though he tried to convince her that he could make do with anything, didn't matter to him whether a chair was "comfy" or not. She'd only scoffed at him and said, "All the best things in life are comfortable, don't you know that?"  
  
"Can I sleep with you tonight?"  
  
Spike tensed up. She'd never asked that before. Usually when she had the nightmares all she did was tell him about them and then go back upstairs. This one must've been worse than the others.  
  
"I don't know, Bit ..."  
  
But she looked at him with those eyes of hers and found himself caving. Could never say no to her.  
  
He was thankful he had learned a long time ago to wear jeans to bed. His sleeping naked days were long over. "Get in," he said, trying to sound defeated while pulling back the other side of the covers for her.  
  
Her face lit up with excitement and she quickly jumped into the side next to him, pulling the covers up almost to her chin. Her eyes scanned the rest of the room, looking at the television set, his weapons chest, and finally stopping on his bookcases.  
  
He noticed where her eyes lingered immediately. "Oh no, not tonight. I won't have you up all night reading again. Buffy almost had my hide the last time."  
  
Oftentimes he would come home after a night of poker or patrolling and find her curled up in the corner of the basement, reading one of his books. He usually didn't say anything about it unless it was too late and he knew Buffy would be upset. Do her usual ranting about how Dawn had school and needed her sleep. But sometimes he would wake up in the middle of the night and find she'd snuck back downstairs and was reading one of his books with a penlight. Sitting in the corner, her face lost in the book with her knees tucked under her chin. He never asked why she just didn't bring the book up to her room and would watch her for a while before falling asleep again. Sometimes she would glance at him and know he was awake but wouldn't say anything. It was nice. Comfortable. Quiet moments together where nothing had to be said.  
  
A fake pout appeared on her lips. "Aw, you're no fun. So I guess that means calling all my friends and inviting them over for a wild party is out?"  
  
He tried not to laugh. "Go to sleep," he grumbled.  
  
They were silent for a while until something she had said earlier struck him. "You said, 'again'."  
  
"Huh?" Dawn asked, having almost fallen back asleep.  
  
"You said you dreamed about this *again*. I don't remember you ever telling me about this dream before." He turned and faced her. "Something you're not telling me, Bit?"  
  
There was a long pause before she finally answered his question, turning away from him as she did so. "I've dreamt about it before. I just never wanted to tell you, okay? I didn't want to say the words, say how you were all dusty and never coming back because that would make it too real, you know? But then this time it was too much and I had to come down here-"  
  
He cut her off and reached his hand out to stroke her hair. "Shhh shhh. Hush, Sweet Bit. Don't have to talk about it anymore. 'S, alright. Here, aren't I? Not going anywhere."  
  
She seemed soothed by that, her breathing becoming calm again and he tried to take his hand away. "No, don't stop. I like it when you do that," she whispered.  
  
"Yeah?" He hated the way the word sounded the minute it came out of his mouth. Too seductive, too tainted.  
  
"Yeah, that way I know you're still here. And that I'm still here," she said sleepily while yawning.  
  
His heart broke for her and he ran the back of his hand down her hair again. Her back to him with all her hair running down it. He remembered that one dream of hers. Where she just disappeared back into a green energy ball and no one remembered her. She'd asked him if he'd remember her and it had taken all his composure not to break down. "Not bloody likely that I'd forget my own Sweet Bit, is it?" is what he'd said and she'd hugged him tightly immediately, her arms circling his back with love and he prayed to God at that moment that she'd never let go. But God never listened to any prayers that came from him.  
  
Suddenly the reason for why this was a very bad idea became apparent. The smell of her. She was so close and the smell of her was everywhere. All over his sheets now too. One day he had taken a shower immediately after she had and paid the price for it. The room had been covered with her. The scent that was unmistakably Dawn mixed with steam and her shampoo. She always smelled of lilac and lavender. Always putting pretty scents on her that were purple through and through. Such a sweet fragrance that was richly mixed with the books she read. Could smell the old leather bindings on her, the yellowed pages and faded ink. He'd never smelled a combination like it before. It all made up who she was. All of it Dawn.  
  
And now that scent was lying on his bed inches away from him. All he could do was keep stroking her hair. He never got over how soft it was. Knew it couldn't just be because she brushed it a lot. No one could get hair like that with just such an ordinary task.  
  
He continued stroking her hair until well after she was asleep but then he remembered himself and stopped, falling asleep himself.  
  
When he awoke it was with a smile on his face. He kept his eyes closed and basked in the feeling of being loved and wanted. Had never felt so comfortable or at peace. His eyes popped open when he realized why that was. Dawn had wrapped herself around him sometime during the night. Curled against his backside, her arms firmly latched around his chest.  
  
Could feel her breath on the back of his neck, making all the little hairs stand on end.  
  
He closed his eyes and tried to compose himself. It was too much. But he waited a few minutes before slowly prying her off of him and moving her back to the other side of the bed.  
  
When she woke up there was only one question on his mind. Another unspoken question. She had looked surprised for just a tiny moment when she'd first woken up and found herself on her side of the bed again. He couldn't help but wonder whether or not she had been awake when she had moved her body against his.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
It was summer and the days had turned hot and sticky. Dawn's 18th birthday had been one of the hottest days of the year and everyone had wanted her to have an outdoor party. But she wouldn't hear of it. Wouldn't be a party unless Spike would be able to come. They'd compromised and had the party outdoors at night in a park. Spike had noticed the way the boys at the party had looked at her. Couldn't help but notice. She'd dated in the last year but nothing serious and she'd barely talked to any of the boys at the party. Had simply taken Spike by the hand and insisted he see some swings that Buffy had pushed her on years ago.  
  
One summer afternoon he was sitting on his bed when she came to him.  
  
"I think it's cooler down here," she said, waving her hand in front of her face. "Or at least a little bit."  
  
It still hadn't rained all summer and everyone at the house had been joking about it being some weird Hellmouth thing. Felt like the whole town was on fire. The heat had forced them to wear very little clothing too. All Dawn wore that whole summer were shorts and tank tops while going barefoot. He looked down at her feet while she talked. He wondered how she ever found time to paint her toenails.  
  
"Should buy a bloody fan for this room is what I should do," he grumbled.  
  
"Surprise!" she squealed. She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled a folded paper fan from behind her back.  
  
"Ta da!" she exclaimed, opening it up with a flourish. He laughed and she moved it quickly back and forth by his face.  
  
"Oi! Enough of that! You're mussing up my hair!"  
  
"Oh, we wouldn't want that, would we?" She laughed and only fanned him with it harder.  
  
He laughed and grabbed her wrist quickly to make her stop. His hand keeping a firm hold on her while they looked at each other. The fan silent and unmoving.  
  
He could see little goosebumps that had begun to form on her arm and he dropped her wrist quickly, taking her fan from her.  
  
They sat in silence until she started bending at the waist slightly. Her face scrunched up in pain.  
  
"What is it? What's wrong?" Spike asked, sounding panicked.  
  
"It's nothing. I'll be okay. Just sometimes ... now I know this will sound majorly weird but don't laugh, okay? My scars ... sometimes they hurt when something's about to change, like the weather or something. They get red again too, like they were just cut yesterday."  
  
She moved and stood up, lifting her tank top up just enough to show him the scars. She was right. They were red.  
  
"You never told me that," he said, sounding hurt that she hadn't confided in him.  
  
"Oh, it doesn't happen all that often. And the pain isn't that bad." He couldn't tell whether she was just trying to put a brave face on about it or not.  
  
He couldn't stop staring at her scars. He reached a shaky hand out to her, trailing a finger down one of them. Could hear her take a sharp intake of breath but she didn't move away, didn't put her shirt down. He rubbed his thumb gently down the side of the other scar. God, his beautiful girl was so scarred. He thought maybe if his fingertips gently caressed them they would disappear. Leave her unmarked. But they didn't.  
  
Spike looked up at her before moving closer. His lips were as light as air as they kissed one scar. Soft lips trailing down before moving to the other side.  
  
"Its okay, Spike," she murmured.  
  
His lips didn't stop, only kept moving up and down the scars all over again. His mouth moving achingly slow against her skin. Gentle and sweet as she put one of her hands on his head, twisting his hair. She tasted like redemption and salvation. Like everything he'd ever wanted. It was all right here in front of him, in the form of this willowy girl who'd seen and been through too much to still have such a sweet smile. He only wished he was on his knees before her. Couldn't worship her properly unless he was on his knees.  
  
He stopped when he realized he didn't want to just be kissing her scars anymore.  
  
Spike pushed himself away from her, sitting back against the headboard of his bed. Felt like a bastard. Didn't know what the hell just happened but he knew it wasn't right. His head ached and he longed for things that were clear and uncomplicated.  
  
Dawn sat herself back down on the bed and looked at his chest. There were tiny scars on it that vamp healing hadn't even taken care of. They were so light though that they were barely noticeable. But she noticed them.  
  
Her finger traced the line of one of the scars. "Is this ... was this from Glory?"  
  
He didn't say anything, which was all the answer she needed. Her face looked pained and he could only watch as her nail moved across his chest. Noticed she had sparkly nail polish on. It moved so gingerly across his chest, tentative and unsure.  
  
"Don't concern yourself about it, Bit. 'S, nothing." But she didn't hear him or didn't want to hear him as she moved her head closer to his chest. Her lips on that scar. Tiny kisses that were killing him.  
  
"No, love. You don't have to ..."  
  
But his voice trailed off as his eyes were dangerously close to rolling back into his head. She had placed one hand on his chest while her lips moved to the other tiny scars. Scars that weren't because of her but that soon found themselves being kissed anyways.  
  
When he looked down all he could see was her beautiful head kissing his chest as her hair fell around her and he had to close his eyes. Couldn't take that sight. He wanted nothing more than to run one hand through her hair, keeping it out of her face and the other to be against her back, holding her to him. So he gripped the sheets on his bed tightly, his nails digging deeply into the mattress willing himself to keep them there. Because he knew if he put his hands on her he'd never let go.  
  
When she stopped kissing them everything was awkward. Neither knew what to say or do. All he wanted to do was kiss her. Pull her to him with both hands and kiss those sweet lips that were so kind and giving and repay her for everything. For the kisses, for her friendship, for being the first person who had ever treated him like a man without ever having to say so.  
  
He simply ran a hand down her cheek instead. She looked too confused for anything else and so was he. Knew something had changed but nothing had gotten clearer. Still surrounded by grey murkiness.  
  
It began to rain outside. The drops falling hard and fast against the roof.  
  
"Why don't you run upstairs and get that book you were talking about earlier, pet. Wanted me to help you with your Greek, didn't you?"  
  
She made some sort of nervous chatter and ran upstairs to get it.  
  
When she was gone he let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He ran his hand down the places she had kissed and knew that nothing could ever cut him as deep as she could. She left the kind of scars you couldn't see. 


	3. Chills up my Spine

Title: Chills up my Spine  
  
Series: Third in the "After the Fall" series.  
  
Author: Diva Stardust  
  
Pairing: Dawn/Spike  
  
Rating: R  
  
Summary: Dawn's feelings for Spike grow into more than just a crush.  
  
Distribution: Just ask first if you want to archive this somewhere, please. I will most likely say yes!  
  
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Joss Whedon, Marti Noxon, Mutant Enemy, UPN, FOX, etc. I'm not making any money off this!  
  
Acknowledgements: Thanks to Spikeyvamp for the beta!  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
She was always waiting for his next touch.  
  
In the evening, before bed, she would wait for him. Spike never had to knock because she never kept her door closed. Dawn liked that he could slip behind her so quietly; not making a sound and she would only know he was there from his touch.  
  
She'd be at her desk doing homework when she'd feel his hand on her shoulder. There was always a pause before he would speak. She used that time to relish the contact. To close her eyes and hope for more. Sometimes he would stroke her hair; running the back of his hand down it or threading a few of his fingers down selected locks. He never touched her hair the same way twice. She could feel that.  
  
Then there would be words.  
  
"How's the work coming?"  
  
"Need any help, Sweet Bit?"  
  
"Buffy's in one of her bleeding moods tonight, Bit. Is carrying on about lights out in a few, best listen to her. Don't want her to stake us both in our sleep, do we now?"  
  
Dawn mostly concentrated on his hand on her. The way the hand on her shoulder was tight and secure without being suppressive or controlling. The way his hand was so light in her hair; moving around the strands like it was slowly flying.  
  
There would always be a hug in the morning and at night but she was always the one who reached for him first. It didn't used to be like that. But now he acted like her hugs burned him, like if he held her too tightly he'd crumble into dust.  
  
She's not sure when the change happened. When she started craving his touch. She just knew that one day when Spike left her room, she made a noise. His hands were gone and she wanted them back.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
There are certain things Dawn does at night.  
  
Sometimes she would sleep in her own bed straight through the night. That didn't happen as much anymore.  
  
Sometimes she crept downstairs to the basement and read a book in the corner of Spike's room. That happened more often.  
  
Sometimes she would lie in her bed and touch her scars. Remembering the day Spike's lips were on them that past summer and wondering if they would ever be there again. She would think about the way his lips felt against her skin. Cool and soft, light and airy. Then she would slip her hand into her panties.  
  
So many things to think about when she was touching herself. About that day. She thought about that day a lot. Nothing made her as wet than thinking about looking down at Spike while he kissed her stomach. She liked to think about things that never happened too. About things that would never happen. About Spike coming into her room and seeing her touch herself surrounded by her stuffed animals. Just sitting on her bed and watching her; watching her fingers slide in and out of her cunt while he knocked the dolls off the bed, making room for himself. He'd watch her come while telling her how much he loved her. How he wanted her and no one else. Then he'd kiss her before crawling in beside her and holding her while whispering things to her all through the night.  
  
She kept her door unlocked just in case. He never walked through it, though.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
That night Dawn wasn't content with sitting in the corner of his room, reading. She liked being down there to be near him in private. No Buffy, or Willow, or anyone else to disrupt their time together. But sometimes just being near him wasn't enough and tonight was one of those nights.  
  
She walked quietly over to his bed. She wasn't sure whether she wanted him to wake up or not. He looked so peaceful while he was sleeping. Peaceful and dead, since no sounds came from his mouth. Sheets were loosely draped over him as she sat on the edge of his bed, watching him.  
  
She liked looking at him alone like this when she could wonder what was happening to her; when she started needing him so bad. She used to have a crush on him so she knew what that felt like. It didn't feel like this. It scared her, these feelings she had for him. It scared her how she could get jealous about little things.  
  
Like Buffy. She would come home from school and see them together, talking and feel something inside her tighten up. Jealousy. And she hated it. She also hated that she could tell Spike everything except this. Could tell him about the nightmares she had about the tower, about all her hopes and dreams but not about how she wanted to kiss him. He was her best friend except for when it came to telling him about the feelings she had for him.  
  
She knew she couldn't tell him. She was too afraid of what would happen.  
  
That he would laugh.  
  
That he would say she was too young even though she was eighteen.  
  
That he would laugh, say she was too young, and was nothing compared to Buffy, anyway. Would never compare to Buffy. She was the Slayer, she was the world's protector, and she was just an ancient key that didn't unlock anything anymore. Just Buffy's sister.  
  
She couldn't stand it if she found out that's all she was to him. Just Buffy's sister. Some days she'd remember when he used to be so painfully in love with her. Totally and completely in love. So many days, hours, minutes, seconds that he'd been utterly devoted to her.  
  
It was during those days that Dawn felt it was useless.  
  
But there'd be other times when she thought ... that Spike felt the same way she did. The way she would sometimes catch him looking at her; the way his hand would linger against hers. The way he said her name.  
  
He sometimes said her name differently now. The words were still the same. Dawn, Sweet Bit, and Bit ... those were his usual names for her but occasionally the words came out sounding different when they left his mouth.  
  
Something new layered on top of the protective, sweet tone they had always had. Something that melted her. It felt like he was saying her name like a prayer nowadays, like something he shouldn't even be allowed to say. Sometimes hushed and in a honeyed tone; sometimes rich and soothing. The sound always lush and vibrant. But maybe the way he said her name hadn't changed; maybe she just heard it differently now. She wasn't sure.  
  
Sitting by the edge of his bed, she whispered his name. She just wanted to know if it would come out sounding differently from her mouth too. It came out like a squeak, though. He didn't wake up.  
  
Her hands couldn't keep still. She found herself pulling back the sheets just an inch. The inches soon added up until the sheets were piled by his feet. He was wearing black jeans and nothing else. His hair rumpled from the pillow as she reached out a shaky hand to touch his face.  
  
Her fingers caressed his cheek lightly. So very lightly that at first she wasn't touching anything. Her fingertips drifted across the planes of his cheekbones as he slept. Dawn was holding her breath almost the entire time.  
  
She sat by him closer so she could have her entire hand across his cheek. He made a little happy noise and she jumped, taking her hand away quickly. She wondered how much of her warmth he had absorbed.  
  
When he didn't wake up she moved her hand across his chest; feeling the tight muscles there, one trembling finger grazing past a hardened nipple. His skin was smooth, flawless, and she wanted nothing more than to take off all her clothes and feel how her skin felt against his. To touch his body so thoroughly that she would know all the places by heart; all his little secret spots that would cause him to shudder in pleasure.  
  
Her hand traveled down his stomach where she moved it back and forth gently. Her nails occasionally scraping against his skin as her hand moved up and down. He was making more sounds now. There was a soft smile on his face that hadn't been there before. Little noises and tiny gasps were coming from his mouth as she ran her hand all the way from his stomach up to his chest again.  
  
"Dawn ..." he murmured in his sleep. The word sounded like sex. Slightly raspy and covered in a moan. She'd never heard him say her name like that before.  
  
She quickly took her hand away, threw the sheets back over his body and ran upstairs.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
One night Dawn woke Spike up sometime between midnight and daybreak.  
  
"Take me somewhere," she whispered, already fully clothed. She looked down at him with pleading eyes.  
  
"Where do you want to go?"  
  
"Anywhere."  
  
He grumbled but eventually gave in. It was the weekend and she already had all her homework and all her research for the latest creature of the week done.  
  
He tried to give her that old helmet she had worn the night Buffy came back but she refused. Every time they rode together he would ask her to wear it even though she refused each time. She wasn't going to wear something that reminded him of her at that age. Didn't want him to think about her like that; didn't want to be that girl that needed protecting.  
  
"Fine," he sighed when she refused the helmet. "Just hold on tight, then. Don't let go."  
  
That was the idea.  
  
Being on the back of his bike with him was the best feeling in the world. She was able to hold onto him as tight as she wanted without him being able to run away. Couldn't look awkward like he sometimes did and make excuses while untangling himself from her embrace.  
  
She imagined that this was what sex felt like. Holding onto him as tight as possible, melding her body into his while something powerful and hard throbbed between her legs. Feeling it everywhere. The heat from the bike ran up through her thighs all the way to the tips of her fingers. She tried to give him some of this heat back by putting her hands around his waist, her fingertips meeting up around his stomach, clenching around the cotton of his shirt.  
  
She pressed her breasts against the leather of his coat, rested her head against him and sighed into the wind. Then she tried to listen for any sounds his body made. Dawn wanted to see if she could hear his heart beating again if she pressed closely enough against him. She moved her fingers slightly against his waist and felt the tiny ways he trembled. I made him tremble, she thought, I did that.  
  
He took her to a place where you could stand and look at the whole city. Funny how Sunnydale looked so normal from a distance. Everything peaceful and quiet.  
  
Dawn had started smoking. She only did it when they were alone somewhere together at night. Those were the only times she would ask and he never protested because he knew she wasn't going to start smoking regularly. She only smoked when they were underneath a bed of stars.  
  
They stood together, overlooking the city and then she turned to him. Didn't even have to say anything and he handed her a cigarette. She didn't crave the nicotine. She craved the sparks she got from it.  
  
She held it in her mouth while he lit it for her. And that's the thrill she loved most of all. The moment where the flame from his lighter would illuminate his face and she could see his eyes looking at her in the dark. She wondered if he always looked at her in the dark like that. When no one could see.  
  
The flame was always gone too quickly for her. She wanted to see him look at her like that all the time.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Groping in the back seat of a car was awkward. Especially awkward when the person you were groping and kissing wasn't the one you wanted to be with.  
  
They were parked where everyone went to make out. Dawn could see other couples doing the same thing through her window but there was a difference. They looked like they were having fun.  
  
Mark was a nice enough boy but he was boring. Dull. Lacked fire and passion. Didn't have anything in common with her. Had probably never read a book in his life. But she'd been out on a few dates with him that autumn because he'd told her he liked her and that'd seemed like enough at the time.  
  
His hands were clumsy against her body and she longed for Spike's hands. The way his fingers could gracefully touch the nape of her neck. She loved how those same hands could break a demon's neck with the same sort of effortless skill.  
  
This wasn't working. His hands were up her shirt but she wasn't turned on at all. He kept talking to her but none of the words sounded right. None of it did anything for her.  
  
"Call me your Sweet Bit," she whispered frantically in his ear.  
  
"What?" Mark pulled back, confused.  
  
"Just do it," she hissed, her eyes steely and determined.  
  
"Sure. Whatever does it for you, babe."  
  
When she heard Spike's endearment for her leave Mark's lips over and over again she closed her eyes and tried to pretend it was him. She imagined Spike's hands against her breasts, caressing them. Mark's hands fumbled with her zipper and fumbled even more when they were in her panties. She tried to picture Spike's hands in her mind and imagine what they would feel like there.  
  
"Keep saying it," she ordered, her voice sounding desperate.  
  
It still wasn't working. His voice sounded nothing like Spike's. It didn't have that deep, rough, gravelly timbre that Spike's voice could take on. He never took on that tone much with her but she had it memorized from the few times she had heard it. Those times when a few words would slip past his lips that sounded low and dark, sensual. He'd look scared when that would happen and get away from her quickly, mumbling an excuse of some kind.  
  
No, this definitely wasn't working. It was wrong for Mark to be calling her his Sweet Bit. She wasn't his.  
  
Finally she shoved him off her. "Take me home," she grumbled.  
  
He protested at first but relented when she fixed him her trademark glare with her arms across her chest.  
  
Spike was sitting in the living room watching television when she got home. He would always wait up for her when she had a date but was never overbearing about it. Never acted like an overprotective brother. Just acted like a friend.  
  
He looked up when he saw her come through the door. "Date go well?" he asked.  
  
She flung her purse on the coffee table and sat down beside him. "Eh. Mark's majorly lacking in the brains department. And in a few other places too."  
  
He snorted. "I could've told you that, love. Knew he was a stupid git the first time I met him."  
  
He stared straight ahead at the screen, his jaw clenched up tight. "So ... you won't be going out with him again, I take it?"  
  
"Nope. What's the point? I can see Mark acting like an idiot all day long at school. Don't really need to see him doing it at night too."  
  
He looked relieved and they talked for a few more minutes before she stood up.  
  
"I guess I better go to bed. Don't tell Buffy I was out past curfew, okay?"  
  
"Wouldn't dream of it," he said, standing up as well.  
  
She was excited and surprised to see him reach for her first tonight.  
  
He hugged her goodnight and she held him as tight as she could. She hadn't touched him since their good morning hug and she'd needed this. She ran her hands up and down his back as he stroked her hair. He smelled good as she buried her head against his body. They were so close that everything felt like friction. Everything sparked. She felt a moan coming on and she bit her lip so hard to cover it that she could feel a drop of blood begin to well up. Luckily he didn't seem to be able to smell it.  
  
He pushed back some of her hair, making his lips as close as possible to her ear. "Good night, Sweet Bit," he whispered.  
  
She felt a noise escape her mouth then as her knees went weak but she covered it by saying good night as well. She let her hands travel upwards to the back of his head for a moment, quickly getting to feel his hair before they unraveled themselves from each other and headed to their separate bedrooms. 


End file.
